


In the Early Hours

by Pearl_Pilots_In_Chains



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Canon Compliant, Contemplative, F/M, Homecoming, Inspired by Music, Post-Canon, Songfic, reflective, sweet reunion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:42:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23851765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pearl_Pilots_In_Chains/pseuds/Pearl_Pilots_In_Chains
Summary: Ed returns to Resembool at long last.
Relationships: Edward Elric/Winry Rockbell
Comments: 10
Kudos: 28





	In the Early Hours

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is loosely based on/inspired by the folk song "Homeward Bound." There are a number of different versions of it out there, though I would personally recommend the Peter Hollens version if you're interested in listening to something while you read this.
> 
> This is set when Ed returns from his travels to the west that begin at the end of the Manga and FMAB.
> 
> As usual, I apologize in advance for any grammatical and/or typographical errors.

His feet hit the platform, the solid, unmoving ground welcoming him, as though with open arms, a parent bring in her erstwhile child.He smiled, relishing the feeling once more.Perhaps it was a foolish sentiment.He had felt firm earth before his feet only the day before.The last leg hadn’t been a long one.He had been trainbound for far longer.Still, it had seemed to stretch on endlessly, the pace only growing more and more sluggish as he neared his destination.Perhaps that was because of the nature of his destination.And perhaps the land seemed to welcome him here more so than elsewhere because his relationship with it was different.It knew him.It had felt his soles press upon many a time, the regular, remembered tramp of feet that had walked its paths for the better part of two decades.Maybe that was why it accepted his weight so easily, was almost eager to draw him from the platform to the soil itself.Of course, maybe he was just imagining such wildly existential thoughts to distract himself.From something so fearsome, and yet simultaneously invitingly, insistent.He hoisted his bag up to his side, and dismounted from the wood, returning himself to the earth that waited for him.

It was early morning now, the train having run all through the night.He wasn’t entirely sure what had made him take the one he had.He could have waited for a later train.One which would have arrived in the midday.At a time when someone could have been waiting for him.Then again, no one would have been.They weren’t expecting him.This thought brought a sly grin to his face.No, he decided, he preferred the early arrival.He had been the only passenger disembarking at this stop.It was quiet, peaceful, the village still asleep, reposed for a time longer.It felt more appropriate to enter it now.He could practically slip right back in, no greetings, no long-awaited reunions with people he could always talk to later.He could sink back into it all, as though he had never been gone.That much felt right to him.It felt comforting.And as much as he was sometimes loathe to admit it, that was a sensation he had come to terms with realizing he wanted sometimes.Not that he was about to let anyone know it.Well, just about anyone.He supposed there was always an exception to every rule.

The light was still dim, only beginning to assert its strength as he set off from the train station, hearing the train preparing to depart once more behind him.The first rays of the blossoming sun could just barely be made out over the farthest hills, sending little rays of flame forth to ignite the mist that hung over the village, clinging to the skin like a coat of airborne cloth.The suspended moisture didn’t bother him too much, considering that the light had touched it just enough to imbue it with a noticeable trace of warmth that was pleasant when it brushed his face.Yet, even if it had been frosty, something about the way in which he strode, purposeful and pointedly, would have given an observer the impression that the lone traveler now trotting down the street at a brisk pace wouldn’t have minded the mists.His focus was singular enough to ignore any adverse elements of the clime, while drinking in the agreeable aspects.

He had passed through the village proper now, his pace appearing to quicken as he neared the outskirts of the more concentrated development, which gave way to winding country roads, running in a web-like manner through the plots of farmland.The route he took was second nature, despite the length of his absent.Each step was common, accustomed, a customary course.The fields grew up about him, interspersed with pastures in which livestock had begun to rouse for the day.A pair of sheep regarded him curiously, perhaps wondering why this fellow they had never seen before was in such a great hurry.For indeed, the man’s speed increased even further as he got farther from the town and closer to the goal which he was now visualizing, running the range of his mind’s eye over the architecture he had gazed upon many a time, and yet, never put any thought toward.It was strange, so very strange, how duration and distance could completely reshape one’s perspective, even if that vision was only realized through the aid of memories.And yet, those memories would soon be refreshed, renewed, and replaced.That thought was as wonderful as it was terrible.The image which he had looked upon so frequently at nights, lying in unfamiliar beds, closing his eyes to transport himself backwards, over borders, over cities, to a haven in which rest came easy, was about to be changed.For the better, or for the worse, he had no way of knowing.Either way, to delay the inevitable, the necessary, was not an option.And so, he pressed onward, hastening toward the discovery, anticipating it, regardless of what it would be shown to be.

He paused for a moment, as he came to a crossroads in the paths.Not because he was unsure of which direction he should head in, but because it seemed only appropriately to halt there, if only for an instant.The paths which lead from this intersection could bring him to a multitude of memories, sweet, horrible, bitter, and beautiful.One path, he knew, could carry him toward a hillside where he would still be able to find the remains of a scorched foundation, the stone remnants, no, a stone reminder, of the irrevocable.Another would carry him by a roadside cemetery, sheltered by the boughs of sentinel beech tree, the stones there reminders as well.Memories were inescapable here, growing thick as the stalks of corn they grew alongside.He inhaled deep, sucking in the now-fading mists of the late-summer morn, enjoying the last traces of the pre-day bliss before the dawn had its way.Even now, it was painting the sky red, flinging its auburn pigment across the heavens, lavender and oceanic tones visible not far behind on the horizon, but soon it would all dissolve to the boundless azure that marked the reaches of human sight.

Knowing without a doubt which path he wished to take, for he had made the decision long before he reached the paths’ meeting, he turned right and continued on his way, breaking back into the steady jog he had been keeping up since leaving the central village.The countryside continued to race past him.The very space that had once seemed like a prison was now transformed in a refuge, springing up to carry him on its current.There was a bounce in his step now, his bag thudding rhythmically against his side, its weight altogether insignificant, an insubstantial burden to his charge.It was most definitely not capable of slowing his run.It was dubious if anything had that power at this point.Though there was no breeze, an invisible thermal had claimed his legs and allowed him to glide upon it, hardly even skimming the ground.The sight of his stampede was both comical and impressive in near even proportions.Though his sheer speed and the effortlessness with which he upheld it was admirable, his coat streaming behind him like an unnatural tail of some sort was quite amusing.Similarly, the slightly over-sized sleeves flapped about in a humorous manner, further reinforcing the idea that he was some sort of disembodied spirit of air levitating above the ground, carrying his garments along with him haphazardly.Yet, such a notion was dispelled by the consistent dull thud of his boots against the packed dirt of the path.

Without warning, the sprinter slowed, first to a walk, and then to complete stillness.His eyes were transfixed at an angle, looking up a small incline, where a trail led off the main path up to a house.He stared at it, the expression of awe and speechlessness on his face very much at odds with the simple appearance of the residence.It was not, after all, the mere sight of the building that had struck him dumb.To the contrary, it was something more subtle, far more difficult to articulate or explain in comprehensible terms.While his gaping mouth did a poor job of conveying it, internally, he was consoled by the fact that the image before him was not all that dissimilar to the one which he had borne in his memory for years.Exhaling, a sense of what might have been relief in the action, the traveling set off up the trail.He stopped as he neared the porch.There were no signs of life or activity coming from the house.He considered the fact that the occupants might still be asleep as well.And yet, even against what might be his better judgement, he climbed the steps onto the porch.With steady, measured movements, he walked across it to the door.He paused there for an instant more, the first true hint of uncertainty apparent on his face.He quickly cast aside the thought though, and extending his free hand, knocked on the door.

There was no immediate change or response to the action, and as the moment drew on, the traveler seemed to finally realize the weight of his case.He set down his bag beside him, and watched the door.Excitement was written across his still-youthful face, but there was a streak of anxiety starting to burgeon in his eyes.He reached up and scratched at his beard, which had finally begun to thicken up.Then again, its entire existent was a more recent development, one which he hoped she wouldn’t mind too much.He was about to turn and sit down on the rocker which still held the same spot it always had, when his nascent worry was put to rest by the sound of the lock turning.The door swung inward, opening before him.She was suddenly standing there.Her hair was pulled back, shorter than he remembered.But her face, her face was still the same.Still the same world he could get lost in time and time again without ever losing his way.Still the same song he knew it was impossible to sing, but which he knew the tune to as if it was as important as breathing.She was dressed in work clothes, obviously already prepared for the day.She always was more of a morning person than he was, he realized.That being said, her eyes were clearly still sleepy, not yet fully awake and prepared for whatever the day held.They watched each other, the moment frozen, as though they had been trapped there by cascading resin, the instant captured and preserved for eternity.He spoke, the motions of his lips and voice sedate, dragged out in minute infinity.“Good Morning.Sorry I’m so early—“

He never got to finish his statement.The moment exploded.She practically launched herself into him, her feet leaving the ground when she lunged forward, wrapping her arms about him as they collided.It was all that he could do to not topple over backwards and end up splayed on the porch.Somehow though, he managed to keep his balance, his arms finding purchase around her, completing their embrace, forging it in into a full, unbroken circle, that contained and surrounded both of them.They drew each other in even closer, their circle tightening until it was so near that it bordered on painful, and yet neither of them minded in the slightest.When she finally pulled away, moving just a minuscule bit backward, she lifted her head up, which she had buried into his chest.Their eyes met, and they sustained the contact, immersing one another into each others orbs, extending their souls to meet, to dance, to fall.It was a type of gaze neither one had ever felt before, let alone sent.The volumes of unspoken words, prayers, proclamations, promises, that flowed through the space between them was overwhelming, the silent cracking of a dam unconsciously constructed over the duration of years.

She pulled herself up and forward, and everything changed.As their lips met, he realized for a fleeting second, that they had never kissed before, and for that matter, he had never kissed anyone before.And yet, it didn’t matter.He wondered why they hadn’t done it sooner.It seemed like the easiest thing ever.The softness of her skin juxtaposed against the fibers of his budding beard, golden silk stroking cream shores, rose on rose when their mouths caressed one another, unreserved, unconcerned about the fact that it was messy, and wild, and uncharted.Only caring about the physical union, the point where two forms collapsed into one another, blurring edges, blurring definitions, blurring the passage of days, of months, of perceived eternities.Of at last resolving, answering, acknowledging statements made alongside train tracks—so long ago now—that had never come to fruition, but were unexpectedly lush for harvest, ready for reaping, so that new seeds, found at their core, might sow the fields.It was as perfect as it was unfamiliar, as right as rules proven, tested, scribed in tomes and taught for centuries.And it was in that instant, of early morning epiphany, of chaotic clarity backlit by the dawn, that he truly came home.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to leave a comment if you made it this far. As always, you can recommend a song or pairing if you would like to see me take a shot at it. Thanks for reading!


End file.
